


Candid

by DetectiveJoan



Category: The Pasithea Powder (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Pining, Coda, F/F, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveJoan/pseuds/DetectiveJoan
Summary: God only knows why Sophie had come to expect the truth from Jane in the first place, but still.
Relationships: Jane Gonzalez/Sophie Green
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Candid

So it turns out it was all a lie, or a ploy, or—or—some other thing. Not the truth. God only knows why Sophie had come to expect the truth from Jane in the first place, but still.

Everything Jane had said about absconding off-planet, keeping Sophie in the lap of luxury, letting her cavort around expensive beaches and flirt with beautiful strangers, and then fucking her senseless every night—

Okay, maybe Sophie had extrapolated that last part, but hey, that didn’t matter now because none of it mattered now because the thing Jane had actually done with her first night away from constant government supervision wasn’t to run away with Sophie, it wasn’t even to  _ kiss _ Sophie, it was to get her drunk and steal her comms unit and fuck her over by airing her own recording of threatening to physically harm children to the entire PSA via the shoddiest excuse for a journalist the galaxy had ever seen.

Sophie’s never going to speak to her again. 

She says as much in a message to Jane’s comms unit, and then remembers that Jane doesn’t have her comms unit anymore, and then remembers that even if Jane did get the message she wouldn’t be able to call Sophie back because Sophie doesn’t have  _ her _ comms unit anymore, and then she screams, and then she ends the recording. 

She has half a drink, just enough to take the edge off the hangover.

Jane is in one of the three framed sentimental photos on Sophie’s wall. In it, she’s slightly out of focus in a way that looks like it was done on purpose instead of being a consequence of the camera having no idea how to respond to the sheer frizzy volume of Jane’s hair. It makes her look soft, even romantic. Her mouth is open in a laugh at some joke that Sophie can’t remember, but the expression still feels apt considering Sophie’s entire life is a joke, considering she’s in love with this ridiculously beautiful woman who probably loved Evelyn more than Sophie did, and might love Cassandra more than Sophie does, and implied she could love Sophie herself more than Sophie ever has.

Fuck it. Sophie throws back the other half of the drink. 

She’s going to the beach.

***

In the past 24 hours, Jane has escaped state custody, committed treason (again), and probably kick-started at least one interplanetary war. In short, she has more important things to worry about right now than Captain Sophie Green.

She  _ certainly _ has more important things to do than stare at tabloid photos of Sophie taking a beach day. Not that that’s stopped her attention from repeatedly drifting back to all the trashiest excuses for news streams. 

Sophie looks good; she looks hot, frankly, in her navy board shorts and bikini top peeking out from under her loose muscle tank. The photos mostly feature her in some kind of pick-up volleyball match: the ball is perched on her fingertips the second before a serve; her knees are bent deep and her open hands raised high, ready to set; she’s diving towards a returned spike in a dramatic spray of sand. Interspersed through the actions shots are photos of her laughing with her teammates, flirting at passersby, even waving cheekily at the photographer.

Jane isn’t usually self-centered, but the excursion clearly reads as Sophie’s very public way of telling her to go fuck herself.

It’s no worse than what Jane deserves, of course. She’d made her choices, even though she knew Sophie would disagree with them on both a philosophical and personal level—even though she knew a likely consequence would be the reamputation of their relationship. 

Jane had survived losing Sophie before, surely she can do it again. Still, it’s already harder this time around, now that she has a clearer picture of what’s she’s lost—now that she knows exactly what it feels like to have Sophie’s arm around her waist, Sophie’s hand gently cupping her cheek, Sophie’s breath warm against her lips as the possibility of deeper connection sparks brightly between them. 

At least this response is markedly different from the eight distinct rage-fueled video messages that Sophie had sent her in the weeks after Rowley had publicized the intent to weaponize Pasithea. Maybe that means this won’t be followed by several long months of bitter silent treatment either. 

And besides, what did Jane expect Sophie to do in the face of the repeated betrayal? Roll over and play dead? Of course not. Sophie is nothing if not the consummate survivor. 

So maybe the tabloid bait isn’t Sophie metaphorically flipping her off. Maybe it’s actually Sophie’s way of saying: you’re not getting rid of me that easily. 


End file.
